


Snow Country

by too_much_to_dream



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Slow Burn, Snow, Tension, probs - Freeform, ski lodge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-03 01:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10233104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/too_much_to_dream/pseuds/too_much_to_dream
Summary: There's a ski lodge in the mountains where the snow falls like a whisper and the trees are never bare. The Innkeeper's Husband, Merlin, works diligently to keep the place open, but sometimes feels like letting it all go to hell. One day, Arthur Pendragon steps off a bus, and things start to go very, very differently. (Multi-chapter)





	1. Cocoon

The snow falls like a solemn whisper, settling onto the roof of the old ski lodge quiet and restrained. Small flakes dance in the twilight sun, and kiss the faces of travelers gently before settling in their brows. For now, there is only a light dusting on the ground, but up on the mountain, the trees look as if they had been spun white by silkworms. Only the occasional bare evergreen stands verdant against the backdrop, and even then the color seems to be a fading jade. 

Inside, the innkeeper’s husband throws a log into the churning fire, sending embers spiraling up into the chimney to meet the ice above. An elderly man sits by the fireplace reading a newspaper from three years ago, and a young woman scribbles something into a notebook. They have been the only guests for a week. 

The husband returns to his post behind the counter, taking a sip of a now tepid tea. He sighs and twists at his wedding band, the skin underneath raw and irritated, asking himself what he had been thinking to stay in his hometown all these years. 

He desperately wants to take a break, to call his spouse and have her work the counter, but she’s not there. She’s never there. For all intents and purposes, she is the innkeeper's wife. The lodge with the chipped paint and vermillion neon sign has never really been hers.

Outside the snow starts to fall faster, the gentle kiss now a more bruising one. A bus pulls into the lodge’s driveway, two potent beams of golden light showering the dark brown facade. The vehicle groans and rumbles its way to the door, before letting out a sigh and all but collapsing at the entrance. 

The doors swing open and out walks a man with a black briefcase and uneven stubble. He stumbles a bit, boots sliding on a patch of hidden ice, but he regains his footing and walks toward the entrance. The snow adorns his head like a crown of ice before melting into his golden hair, leaving it damp and flat.

His hand grasps the door handle, veins bulging slightly, and pulls it open, ushering himself inside. The elderly man takes no notice and continues to digest the economic report, somewhat considering taking outdated finance advice. The young woman continues drawing, charcoal staining her fingers as black as the walls of the fireplace. 

But the innkeeper's husband catches the smell of tobacco, and smoke, and old cologne. The scent is intoxicating, like seeing the world in black and white. He raises his head, black hair dangling somewhat in his eyes. The man he was expecting to see is not the one in front of him.

“Can I help you?”

The blond man seems taken aback, as if he had been asked something taboo or personal. He drops his briefcase by his feet and runs a hand through his slick hair, beads of cold water falling to the floor.

“I’d like a room for a couple nights.”

The other man quirks an eyebrow. “Just one?”

“Yes, it’s just me.” 

“Well, alright. What size room do you want?”

“Just put me in the most expensive one you’ve got.” The blonde man cracks a smile, teeth a stark contrast to his rose colored lips. It's the type of smile that is dizzying. Not because of how earnest or charming it is, or the thought of how those teeth would feel grazing over his neck, but because of how much it reminds the innkeeper’s husband of the snow: pure white, utterly beautiful, and so entirely cold.

He sucks in a breath and nods. “Alright, can I have a name for the room? And would you like to pay now or when you check out?”

He doesn’t answer and throws a chrome credit card onto the desk without a care, and the concierge just stares at it as it clatters. It’s an entirely rude gesture, one that catches the attention of the other guests. They stare at the stranger, just now noticing the man with the fitted suit and perfect hair. The older man shakes his head, the woman just stares.

The innkeeper’s husband picks it up and reserves the room, taking extra care to look at the name on the card. As he slides it back, the man’s fingers graze his, and he feels as if he has been plunged into a frozen black lake.

“I hope you have a wonderful stay, Mr. Pendragon.” He musters a smile, but it falters under the scrutiny of the man across from him. The blond’s eyes are incomprehensible, some hidden emotion buried underneath the carribean blue. 

“How about you call me Arthur instead?” 

“Certainly, Arthur.” A beat passes. “I’m Merlin.”

Arthur’s lips quirk upward and offers his hand. Merlin stares at it for a bit, at his wide fingers and the dusting of blonde hair that disappears under his oxford shirt. What is this man after? Why is he here? Merlin’s head aches with indecision. It seemed silly to think so hard about something so insignificant, but even he knew that even the smallest things could hold great importance. A second more passes, it feels like a lifetime.

Cautiously, he outstretches his own hand, wrapping his slender fingers around Arthur’s palm. His hand feels somehow both soft and calloused, and Merlin is able to think for a solid millisecond. And then Arthur’s fingers tighten around his hand, and suddenly he can’t, because his thumb his rubbing at the back of his hand and the contact is jarring.

Arthur’s grip is tight, and Merlin’s mouth goes dry. There’s the heat, too. His hand is burning up and he can swear that Arthur can feel his pulse racing and oh god, what must he be thinking He knows his ears must be burning up because this is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. A handshake feels like the most sensual thing he’s experienced in years.

He can’t bring himself to look up, but somehow he does, and Arthur seems somewhat amused. His grip seems to get just a little tighter, as if he’s trying to see how much the innkeeper can take. It’s a test that Merlin wasn’t ever expecting to take, but he presses his fingernails into Arthur’s wrist, leaving crescent moon indents. The businessman seems even more amused by that. 

But then his hand is gone, and the heat is gone too. Merlin finds himself rubbing his hand nervously. Why had a handshake felt like eternity?

Arthur, the bastard, is grinning like a child on christmas, his serious demeanour from before gone for an instance. They make no attempt to speak, both simply focused on the other for a bit. Merlin stares at the man’s neck, admiring that almost archetypical golden American tan and jutting jawline. Arthur is staring at the concierge’s fidgeting hands, both amused and confused by the man’s nervousness.

Then he tilts his head slightly and looks directly into Merlin’s eyes.

“Show me to my room?”

Merlin is just about to say yes to this man, whether or not he’s coming onto him. But, hell, he’s definitely coming onto me. His lips part, tongue lifting to pronounce that one syllable word when he looks down to his hands and sees his wedding band.

Fuck.

“It’s the last one on the right, third floor.”

Arthur’s face drops, and so does Merlin’s heart.


	2. Unravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bath Time.

The elevator grumbles to a stop, its metallic doors sliding open with a high pitched screech. The blond inside is looking nonplussed. His pink lips are pulled into a line, eyes glassy and wide, what had just happened? That….Merlin seemed to be into him as much as he was, so the abrupt rejection was jarring. He bites his lip and clenches his fists. God, he got me all worked up for nothing. He shakes his head, grabbing his bag and walking out of the elevator before it can close on him. It’s Merlin’s prerogative if he wants to reject him, there’s nothing he can do about it now. 

Out of the elevator, he’s greeted with rows of white doors on either side of him, almost cold and clinical like a hospital. There’s an odd odor to the floor too, like pine needles and smoke, but it isn’t exactly unpleasant. The walls and floor seem clean, if not a little drab, and overall, Arthur finds it acceptable. He walks down the hallway, taking a turn when he needs to, until he arrives at a window that takes up the entire wall. Curious, he peers through the glass.

Outside, the snow has taken a turn for the worse. Trees bend and sway in the harsh winds and the snow is falling in such heavy flakes that it’s impossible to see past the near horizon. There’s no way he can ski, or even go out to town for that matter. In any case, he knows he has to stay inside, at least until the storm passes. His mind quickly turns to Merlin’s soft skin and sharp cheekbones, which leaves him feeling frustrated.

He tears his eyes away from the window, choosing instead to approach the door on his right. After struggling with the lock and key for a good three minutes, he is able to swing the door open, revealing a surprisingly impressive room. He steps inside, pushing the door closed behind him, but it stays slightly ajar. 

A king sized bed is pushed against a wall, its frame old and wooden, but still imposing. There’s a nightstand near it, where Arthur kicks off his boots and leaves his briefcase. He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands, before proceeding to take off his tie and throwing it to the bed. 

On the opposite side of the room there is a door, which he assumes to be the bathroom. Nonetheless, he makes his way over, unbuttoning his oxford shirt to reveal his broad chest, whispers of hair adorning his pectorals. The shirt comes off, and then the pants, and he stumbles into the bathroom only wearing a pair of tight, black briefs.

There’s a shower and a bath that’s snug against a large window. Arthur is pleasantly surprised. Guess I’ll be able to relax after all. He starts running the water, before running back to his pants to grab his phone. He sighs, and hits the number in his most recent call list. The phone rings several times, before prompting him to leave a message. 

“Hi, Dad. I’m here at the lodge. There’s a blizzard or something happening outside so I won’t be able to make it to town until it lets up. I didn’t see her in the lobby, but I’m sure she’ll be here soon. Don’t worry, I’ll make it happen. You know I will. Talk to you later, bye.” Arthur speaks bluntly, the syllables cutting off as quickly as they roll off the tongue. 

He ends the call, slipping his phone onto the quaint vanity. Damn, he murmurs. He feels dizzy, and his tongue feels tired, like after those French classes he took in high school. By now the water has filled the tub, steam rising from the basin, and Arthur chuckles at how l’eau he feels right now. The businessman locks the door, despite being alone, as always, and slips off his underwear. 

He dips his tired feet in first, before slipping his entire body in, the heat loosening his muscles, and his mind. There’s not much to see outside. It’s getting darker, and the lights from the lodge bathe the snow in an aura of blinding white. Arthur slips his head under the water, abdomen taut as he holds his breath. Moments pass and blur. Time doesn’t exist under the water. His eyes open, irritated and red. Beyond the water, the ceiling is decorated in gold decals. 

They spiral in a dance of luxury, a pass-time Arthur is well acquainted with, before the ribbons wrap into an ovalular sphere in the center of the ceiling. Silver trees and mountains surround it. His eyes trace the patterns, as if redrawing them will reveal a meaning, but he’s not too sure there is one to begin with. His mind drifts to angular cheekbones and soft skin. Arthur closes his eyes, he’s had enough. It’s not enough to drown for nothing.

His head rises from the depths and he gasps in a desperate attempt to fill his lungs. Arthur hunches over, his pink lips trying to calm his breathing. Beads of water run down his hair and chest, his upper body flushed against the angelic haze outside. He turns his head to the glass. He looks pathetic, shivering and struggling for air. The man rubs his eyes and turns his attention back to the reflection.

Arthur freezes. To the left of his own image is Merlin. The innkeeper is focused outside, but then his eyes move to the blond. Did he change his mind? Why? But the businessman doesn’t really care, instead focusing on the other’s man lithe form. Merlin walks over to him, all while Arthur keeps his eyes on the window, following the other man’s path. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Suddenly, he feels the innkeeper’s hands on his shoulders and he gasps. "Not in a talking mood, huh. Understandable, I prefer action as well." The hands move down, fingertips running through the hair on his chest and dance on his navel. Merlin’s head is flushed against his own, puffs of hot hair caressing his hair. Arthur’s back arches, exposing his neck. The black haired man presses his lips against the blonde's delicate skin, tongue running down from his stubble to his collarbone. Arthur’s breathing quickens, and when Merlin’s teeth carefully nip at his skin, he moans. 

“More.” He whispers, closing his eyes. The innkeeper's hands move lower and lower, dipping into the water towards the other's pelvis. He gasps, the hairs on his arms standing up, as Merlin's hand makes contact for a moment, and then is removed. "You little tease." The blond whispers. Arthur turns his head to capture the other’s lips, but is only met with steam. He opens his eyes, confused, and the room his empty. His eyes turn to the door. 

It’s locked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Leave me a comment letting me know what you liked! I know it's been a while since the last chapter, I've been super busy with exams and classes so I hope you understand. Also, I'm thinking about starting a pretty smutty work with a series of oneshots with various couples. So if you'd like to see some pretty explicit stuff in my writing style, let me know what couples you'd like to see. See you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you all enjoyed! If you feel like it, post a comment telling me what you thought. I'll see you all soon.


End file.
